Ice & Steel
by Britedark
Summary: Heart of ice, soul of steel, destined to be greater than his father. Who is Sesshomaru, and how did he come to be as he is? Pieces written for LiveJournal contests. #12: Dissatisfaction - Naraku and the jewel are destroyed. So why does Sesshomaru not feel satisfied?
1. Legacy Unwanted

_**Disclaimer:** This piece is based on 'Inuyasha', owned by Rumiko Takahashi. No copyright infringement intended or implied._

**Legacy Unwanted**

The wild wind whipped his hair, as the moon played hide and seek with the clouds. His feet set firmly against the ground, glaring at nothing, Sesshomaru did his icy best to ignore the wild wind without and the wild emotions within.

Father was dead--the taiyoukai he had yearned to admire and to measure himself against, and to one day surpass. But, the wail of pain within that desperately sought to unleash his true form, so it could howl its sorrow to the moon, was almost subsumed in the bitter knowledge that his father had thrown his life away.

For a mere ningen and her half-breed son.

"Chichi-ue."

He didn't realize the word had escaped until the whisper of pain touched his ears. Muscles ridged briefly as he clamped his jaws shut. He was neither child nor lesser youkai nor inferior human. The Sesshomaru would not acknowledge weak emotions--

Something flashed, and Sesshomaru found himself snapping his hand out to catch the sword before it fell to the ground. The first flicker of hope drowned as he recognized the hilt and realized what it meant.

Not Tessaiga. _Tensaiga_.

The sword that could not cut. The sword that could not kill.

Weak.

Useless.

Bitterness deepened. He would never understand his father.

But, after some interminable time, he set the sword through his sash, suppressing the wild urge to throw the sword away.

He would never, after all, show disrespect to his father's memory.

That was beneath the Sesshomaru.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was originally written for the Inuyasha Themes community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Wild." It was originally published on February 23, 2010. It took third place.


	2. A Slibling's Life

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**A Sibling's Life**

The dog's howl seemed to shake the mountains. Youkai fled; humans clutched each other and shook.

The half-grown pup beside the dog essayed a few, uncertain, high-pitched howls of his own. But, the sorrow vibrating through his father's song unnerved and bewildered him. Crouching, he went silent, watching the great white dog towering above him, unhappily waiting for the song to end.

Dawn was painting the sky with the first pastel hints of blue and rose when the two white dogs disappeared from the mountain top. A seeming man, tall, white-haired, and armored appeared along the shore of a small lake at the foot of the mountain, accompanied by an equally white-haired boy, who, to human eyes, might have been seven or eight. The man cast a searching gaze on his environs, before kneeling and using his gathered palms to drink. The boy watched him some moments, and then, finally spoke.

"Chichi-ue. I don't understand."

The man pivoted to face the boy. "What don't you understand, Sesshomaru?"

"Why are you so sad?"

Puzzlement flickered over the intense, golden gaze. "That was my sister--my litter-mate--who died yesterday. Didn't I tell you that?"

The boy's expression was no less baffled than the moment before. "Yes," he acknowledged. "But, why does that make you sad? She was dying anyway, you said. And you killed her."

Clawed hands, which had been relaxed, curled into fists. "She was my sister, Sesshomaru. I pledged a long time ago, that no one would kill her, save myself. I failed to protect her from that youkai: all I could do was end her pain." The man dropped his gaze to the ground. "I will miss her."

"Why?" The boy's expression didn't change. "She was weak."

The man snapped to his feet. He glared at his son for a moment, then whirled and put his back to him. "She-wasn't-weak," he growled out, finally.

"But, she couldn't even take a second form," said Sesshomaru. "Mother said, when she came to visit us that time. An inu that can't transform, is weak. Mother said, if my litter-mates had lived, they would have been like her. Weak. Useless."

"She was not weak!" The Inu no Taisho spun to look down at his son, youki flaring, rage in his eyes. Sesshomaru flinched, and then squared off and met the infuriated gaze.

Moments passed. Visibly getting his temper and his youki under control, the man finally sighed. Taking a step closer, he dropped back on his heels. Gently, he combed his fingers through the boy's fine hair, before gently holding the boy's face between his hands.

"Sesshomaru, you were born with a rare gift of power. Very few youkai are born with the potential of a taiyoukai: fewer still ever achieve that level. But there is more to strength than simple power. Courage is strength; so is wisdom. My sister--your aunt--never walked on two feet, never easily soared through the skies as you and I and your mother can. But, her courage never faltered, and she was as clever as she was wise. She probably saved my life more than once, if only by pouncing on me and telling me what a fool I was being. She was my sister, my blood; she was precious to me, and I grieve that I had to end her existence. Do you understand?"

The round, young eyes were guileless--and without understanding. "No."

The Inu no Taisho closed his eyes. His hands slid down to the boy's narrow shoulders, and then pulled the faintly resisting body to him in a hug. "You're still such a little pup, Sesshomaru. Someday, you'll understand."

"Yes, papa." The boy stood still within his father's arms.

With a sigh, the man released the boy and sat back. A clawed thumb gently caressed the twin stripes of one cheek. "Just remember, son. If ever you have a sibling, who is born without your strength, their life becomes your responsibility. An inu youkai should die only at the hand of one of their blood; the one who has taken responsibility. Such a sibling, its life, is yours: to protect, to keep safe, and if needed--only if needed--to take." He paused, studied the unblinking, uncomprehending gaze, and sighed again.

"Never mind." The Inu no Taisho stood up and tousled the boy's hair, earning an irritated flash of eyes. The man smirked. "Race you back to the palace, son."

Two dogs raced through the lightening sky, the smaller chasing the larger for all he was worth, fanged mouth agape in a happy grin.

Chasing father was something he understood, after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This piece was written for the Inuyasha FanFic Contest (iyfic_contest) community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Sessshomaru." It was originally published on March 2, 2010. It was voted first place.


	3. The Keenest Blade

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**The Keenest Blade**

He landed in front of her, angry and uncaring of human proprieties, his youki wind blasting her companions to the ground. _"Where is Tessaiga?"_

Tiny in comparison, sweating and panting from previous exertion, Izayoi gripped her naginata with both hands and looked up, eyes calm and unafraid. "I have not seen it, since your lord father bid me escape, while he turned to face Takemaru." A pause. "Tessaiga is not for you."

His hand grabbed and pulled her close; eyes flashed red. "Onna, you dare tell this Sesshomaru what is and is not his? This one could end your life--"

"Will that lessen the pain of your lord father's death?"

Startlement. The hand released her, shoving. "This Sesshomaru requires no sympathy from humans!"

Balance recovered, she bowed. "As you wish, my lord. I ask only to remember his love, his strength, and his compassion, to mourn his passing, and to teach my son the worth of both of his bloods."

He stiffened. "The hanyo lives?"

"He thrives. As his lord father wishes."

Eyes flickered red again. Almost, he stepped forward. Youki winds whipped around him as he leaped into the air, transforming. Mid-air, well above the palace's highest peak, the dog looked back, snarling, before galloping away on an unseen road.

Izayoi leaned her forehead against the smooth shaft, breath gusting out. No physical blade could have protected her from the young youkai. Fortunately, he was only young, and his own, unacknowledged feelings, gave her words the edge they needed...

* * *

**Author's Note:** This drabble was written for the LiveJournal community, iyfic_contest. It was originally published on April 6, 2010, for the theme "Mightier than the Sword." It won the contest.


	4. Restraint

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Restraint**

The second attack surprised him. He staggered under the blast, eyes widening as his cool, precise control over his human-seeming appearance cracked and buckled. He felt his normal restraints crumpling as he started to change. The hot, lusting instincts of his blood howled for escape, infuriated by the pure, untrammeled insolence of the human priests. _They dared?_

He snarled, feeling his jaws elongating to accommodate jagged teeth, eyes reddening. The energy from the purifying blast snapped and crackled, eroding his control, stinging with pain. His inner beast howled in even greater fury, eager to trample the impudent nothings under his feet, to feast on their blood, to dissolve their bones into nothingness. They dared think they could destroy _him_?

He refused. In the middle of the maelstrom, in the vortex of battling reiki and youki, he refused to let his true form escape, refused the easier path. His youki overcame the reiki, shattering it and reflecting the remnants back to their source. Before the inner beast could howl triumph, he reasserted his control, forcing his youki and his heated instincts back into submission.

The winds of combat died, and in the middle of a strip of devastation, surrounded by a loose circle of sprawled, helpless monks, he stood, unruffled, unchanged. Rin walked up to him, fearless and trusting.

"Rin."

"Hai?"

"Do as you please."

"Hai!" She grinned.

He turned and left. She followed.

His attackers lived.

For her, he would restrain himself.

That she never be afraid—

—Of him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece was written for the prompt "Escape", for the Issekiwa community on LiveJournal. It was originally posted on August 5, 2010. It won the contest.


	5. On His Own

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**On His Own**

Dusk was painting itself in violent colors again, violet and purple streaks against fiery red. Sesshomaru watched the setting sun, as behind him, two mortals and an imp bickered over trivialities.

He could no longer deny truth, not after the hanyo had demonstrated his ability with Tessaiga, to counter a perfected meidou. The half-breed had proven worthy of their sire's great fang. Anger simmered still, given his father's choice to _use_ his full-blooded son to improve the inferior son's inheritance, but there was no reason to deny reality. He could even—grudgingly—admit that his dead sire had demonstrated a prescience and cunning beyond anything he would have once thought the tai-youkai possessed.

It still rankled.

But never mind.

He did not need his father's swords—either of them.

He would achieve his goal, despite his father's disfavor. No inheritance, no legacy: he did not need it. As he had learned to become more powerful, _after_ the wretched hanyo had taken his arm, so he would become more powerful still, without fang or favor. No reliance on a sword that could wipe the field clean with a single blow. Unlike the hanyo, _he_ did not need to rely on another's strength. Not even his father's.

He would surpass his father, entirely on his own, with his own strength.

Swordless, one-armed: it did not matter.

He would stand alone, self-sufficient. He would be recognized as tai-youkai, greater than his sire.

He knew it.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was written for the Issekiwa community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Violet". It was originally posted on September 2, 2010.


	6. No Hand But His

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**No Hand But His**

The sword was as long as she was tall. Kohaku kept eying the girl, and finally screwing up the courage to ask. "Hey, Rin. Do you want me to carry the sword for a while?"

She looked startled, then gave him a happy grin. "I'm fine!" she assured him.

"But, it must be heavy," he said. He remembered how heavy his father's blade—which had been a least a hand-span shorter—had been, the last time he had a chance to carry it.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, hugging Tensaiga to her. "It likes me!"

"Huh?"

"Jaken says Tensaiga made Sesshomaru-sama bring me back the first time," she explained. "He's wrong about Sesshomaru-sama, but Tensaiga did want me to live again."

Kohaku opened his mouth to dispute with her, then closed it again. Weapons made from youkai parts weren't the same as those made from raw wood or metal: he'd always known that. But, his people had made weapons from the parts of dead youkai, pacified and purified with human magic. But, weapons made from living parts of youkai were, Kohaku had been told, a different type of weapon altogether. And he had seen evidence of that, hadn't he? Both of the inus' swords changed size and shape: power was pulled from one to the other. And Tensaiga, breaking inside the meidou, yet returning to the world whole once more. What did he know, to say what Tensaiga could or could not do?

He sighed, and the aching despair within shifted and caused a yearning thought. "I wish I could use Tensaiga," he thought, not realizing at first he had vocalized that thought. His throat tightened with misery. His father, his clan. All the innocent villagers, dead. Because of him. Because of his—weakness—

Kohaku barely kept from tripping over Rin, realizing too late that Sesshomaru had come to a dead halt, forcing his followers to do also. Recovering his balance, he noticed that the youkai had turned his head just enough to see him from the corner of his eye.

"Boy." The voice was frigid. "Why do you wish to use Tensaiga?"

Kohaku stared at him, bewildered. The youkai lord knew of his misdeeds, how could he not know why? "My—my father, my people—I've—I've killed so many! I know I didn't do it on purpose, Naraku took me over, but I—but I remember! And the people killed by the rat demons that time: I-I could have stopped the rats! I could have destroyed the rats, but I didn't, because I didn't want to let Naraku know I'd regained my mind!"

"You want to use Tensaiga, so that you will feel better."

Kohaku flinched. "No!" he denied. "They didn't deserve to die—any of them! I just want to bring them back!"

"Undeserved?" countered Sesshomaru, with just a frisson of puzzlement in his voice. "The dead are dead. Why should they be returned to living?"

"Why shouldn't they, if you can do it? You brought Rin back, didn't you?"

Silence, for a long moment. "Rin was an … experiment."

There was a tiny gasp, and more silence.

"Hah!" came Jaken's voice. "See? But, Sesshomaru-sama brought me back, because he wanted to!"

"Nonsense." Sesshomaru's voice was utterly icy by now. "You had information I required."

This silence was even longer, broken when Sesshomaru turned away and started walking again. Numbly, Kohaku followed, trying to come up with an argument that could persuade the youkai. Why couldn't you give people a second chance, if you had the power, and they had been innocent? What was wrong with that? Why didn't Sesshomaru-sama want to use Tensaiga? To have that ability—he'd do anything to have that gift! Anything!

The memory of his sickle slicing into his father's neck flickered across his mind.

Anything?

No!

... ... ...

He didn't know why he had reacted so strongly to the boy's whispered desire. Why debate human desires, human ideas? They were nonsensical and alien. Return a selected life here or there, for good, practical reason—that was one thing. To resurrect untold numbers, merely out of a feeling of guilt, was ridiculous.

Ridiculous: and yet, vaguely unsettling. A ludicrous image came to his mind, of the boy standing in the middle of carnage, swinging Tensaiga to bring his victims back to life.

And then, Naraku, laughing, making the boy kill them all again.

Nonsense. Sesshomaru dismissed the ugly imagery, yet the taint lingered. Tensaiga would never respond to just anyone's hand—his father had made sure of that.

And yet, he remembered with a pang of discomfort, it already had. Not with its intrinsic ability to revive life, but Naraku had used Tensaiga. Only because he had willingly entered Naraku's trap, covering the blade with the powdered fragments of the mirror demon, and then discarded the sword. But, Naraku had all the Shikon no Tama, save the one fragment that kept the human boy alive. If by some mischance that foul hanyo gained control over Tensaiga again…

He stopped again.

"Rin."

"Yes, my lord."

"Return Tensaiga."

"Yes, my lord!"

He took the blade from her, ignoring her beaming face, and slid it down the sheath he had not yet discarded.

He did not want that constant reminder of what his father had put him through riding on his hip.

But, even less, did he care to contemplate any lesser hand than his on Tensaiga's hilt.

No one else was ever going to control his father's heirloom again.

Never.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece was originally written for the Inuyasha Fanfic Contest community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Heirloom." It was originally posted on October 19, 2010. This version has been edited fairly extensively. (1/2/2011)


	7. Oblivious

_**Disclaimer:** This piece is based on 'Inuyasha', owned by Rumiko Takahashi. No copyright infringement intended or implied._

**Oblivious**

Sesshomaru glared at the hills shimmering under the rising moon, resisting the urge to pace, to howl, to transform, and run through the night air. His blood boiled, his temper simmered, but he resisted temptation. He did not give into mere, physical urges. It might well be spring, but where was the lustful bitch to chase down and catch? He didn't even know where any of his kind were currently, save for the old bitch herself. Certainly, there was none within the considerable range of his nose. So why these infernal desires?

A chuckle sounded behind him. Taken by surprise, he whirled, his sword whipping out of its sheath too quickly for most eyes to see. The chuckler was still in midair as he came into view, adroitly leaping backwards out of range. Sesshomaru caught himself before he attacked again, but his temper was not lessened.

Inuyasha smirked. A growl vibrating in his throat, Sesshomaru glowered at one of the three beings who had ever been able to wreck his composure, and live to tell about it. He breathed once, heavily, subduing the growl. Inuyasha would not be the flea under his coat, to make him lose control. Not now. Not tonight.

Which didn't keep a part of him from wishing to experiment: to study the effects of Bakusaiga on a hanyo.

Standing hipshot, ears twitching lazily, arms across his chest, Inuyasha looked him up and down, sniffing audibly. "Keh," he pronounced presently. "Looks like the rumor must be true."

"How degrading—listening to rumors."

Inuyasha's grin widened. "Hard to not to, when the oni attacking is boasting about how he's going to take out the two sons of the former, disgraced Inu no Taisho." He pulled up his right hand, and examined the claws. Sesshomaru caught a whiff of dried blood. "Pretty boring fight, actually. If I'd known you were going to be visiting the village today, I might have tried to lure him into a chase. I know you get fewer fights than even I do, these days." He examined his hand again. "Humph—better wash again before I head back. Women do like you to be clean, you know. Especially women like Kagome. Don't think she's ever quite realized that the more powerful youkai can just clean themselves up with a few twitches of youki. Which isn't to say that taking the right kind of bath can't be lots of fun, you know. Well, if you know. I mean, everyone knows what a cold-hearted, uncaring, sword up the backside, boring—"

"What rumor?" Sesshomaru interrupted the monologue with a snarl, his eyes reddening.

"Hmm?" Inuyasha finally looked up, an obvious mask of innocence on his face. "Rumor? Oh that rumor. You mean, Jaken hasn't told you all the rumors about your high and mighty self?"

"Inuyasha..." The growl was back. Sesshomaru resisted the urge to transform, bite Inuyasha and shake him until every bone rattled.

Inuyasha smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, I admit, I'm surprised I hadn't heard the rumor earlier. Of course, most youkai ignore me these days, so it's not as if I'm tied into the youkai rumors, like Kagome is into the village rumors. So—"

"Grrrrrrr..." Bakusaiga lit up, taking fire from his barely controlled rage. "Hanyo..."

Inuyasha's eyes flicked briefly to the glowing blade. His left hand fell to Tessaiga's hilt, and his stance shifted. Then his eyes met Sesshomaru's, his grin as wide as ever. "Rumor has it," he said blandly, "that—just like your old man, and your disgusting half-brother—which would be me, of course—you've fallen in love with a lowly, human woman, and that the you'll be—ah—bedding her, any day now."

"What!" Sesshomaru almost shouted. "What woman?" Mate with a human woman? Disgusting!

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on—you can't be that dense! Just who _were_ you visiting today? Why do you think you're wanting to howl at the moon?"

"I was only visiting Rin—"

"Who has grown up, in case you hadn't noticed."

"She—can't have. She's just little girl…"

The humor abruptly faded from the hanyo's eyes and expressions. "Sess, there's a reason our old man nicknamed my mother 'butterfly.' If you're not careful, you'll blink, and Rin will be dying of old age."

Sesshomaru found himself turning away, heated blood quenched with ice. Rin—_old_?_ Dying? Gone, forever?_

A hand touched his shoulder, but he barely noticed the contact, so focused were his thoughts. "Sesshomaru—_ani-ue_—there's nothing wrong with loving a human. Just—don't take too long to decide."

The hand left, but he did not turn back, still absorbed in his thoughts.

A voice drifted up the hill. "You know she'll say 'yes.'"

* * *

**Author's Note: **This piece was written for the Inuyasha FanFiction Contest community on LiveJournal, for the prompt "Rumor Has It." It was originally published on March 1, 2011. It took second place in the contest.


	8. Imperfect

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

**Imperfect**

She was fond of her son, but not unaware of his youthful foibles. So, she was not surprised when he landed in the forecourt, his mane bristling, with a thump that could be felt in her throne. He transformed to his two-legged form, and approached her with an apparent calmness. But, she knew her son well, and he was not perfect.

She gave him a slight, regal nod of acknowledgment. "What brings you to my side today, Sesshomaru? Have you decided that you need a mother's advice?"

The very slight agitation rippling through his fur did not escape notice, as he gave her a perfectly correct, perfectly neutral bow in return. "This Sesshomaru needs no advice," he returned. "There is concern, that the honorable mother should not be taken by surprise by ... disappointing news."

She gave him a measuring look, hiding a smile. "Do you mean the news that your father is dallying with a human woman? That old news?"

He twitched. His eyes widened a fraction, and his shoulders tensed. _Tsk_. Still so young. Still so impassioned. "This Sesshomaru is dismayed that this one's sire should insult his honorable mate with such disgraceful behavior."

"Insult?" she asked, letting amusement color her voice. "What insult?"

He stared at her, openly shocked. "He's gotten her pregnant! She's bears a hanyo!"

She shrugged. "And?"

Disbelief marred his face. "It's disgusting! Revolting! Aren't you angry?"

"Should I be?"

He stared at her for a long moment, and then whirled and leaped into the air, his youki buffeting hers as he transformed. She watched him go, mildly tempted to join him and console him, but only mildly. Sesshomaru was no longer a pup, after all.

Unobserved, she sighed. Poor dogs. Young or old, no male would ever match a bitch's perfection.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This drabble was written for an image prompt of Sesshomaru's mother, for the LiveJournal Community i_b_4_y. It was originally published on March 7, 2011. It took third place. (This is my second piece where Sessmom has a major role. The other one can be found at Chapter 25 of "Little Bits."


	9. Never Look Back, Never Look Down

**__****Disclaimer:**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

* * *

**Never Look Back, Never Look Down**

The icy, golden eyes never looked back, and never looked down.

He never looked back, because he had no regrets. He never looked back, for nothing could sneak up behind him that he would not hear and smell with far more acuity than eyes could see.

He never looked down, because he cared not. He would not grace his vision upon the lowly lives that might clutter his pathway. If they failed to remove themselves, let them be sliced apart or dissolved with his claws, or trodden upon: it made no difference to him. He never looked down, for nothing could make him stumble.

He moved through the world untroubled, untrammeled. Until his bastard half-brother smote him down with their shared sire's sword. Until the ground held him fast for a time, unable to move, while a little mortal, gripping her courage in both hands, offered water by dumping it on his head.

Recovering, he would have returned to his ways, but for a smell of blood wafted on the air. Curiosity—his greatest failing—led him to follow the smell. Led him to where the brave little girl, who had tried so hard to help him, lay dead.

He drew the despised, second fang of his father. He saw the messengers of the other world tugging at her soul. He swung the blade, slaying the messengers.

And then, he knelt, gathered up the child in his single arm, and looked down with a newly stirring sense of wonder.

… ... ...

He never looks back. He does not need to; for he knows she follows him. His hearing and his sense of smell are much more remarkable than his vision, after all.

But, he does look down—at her.

And when he does, his golden eyes are warm.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This piece was written for the LiveJournal community I-B-4-Y, for the image prompt that was Sesshomaru's eye (the closeup from Swords of an Honorable Ruler, in the prologue.) It was originally posted on June 24, 2011. It took first place.


	10. Second Attack

**__****Disclaimer:**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

* * *

**Second Attack**

Although it was the night of no moon, Sesshomaru felt edgy and restless. He generally preferred such nights, when his inu instincts had no moon to trigger a desire to change and sing. He preferred the times when there was no moon to remind him of the romps with his father that he'd rather forget. He preferred the nights when the view of the stars was unfettered: the nightly dance, which changed so slowly, was a fit choice for contemplation.

Of course, the dark nights were also the nights when the low youkai were most in force, drawn by the nightmares and fears of the human rabble. Why they should fear the darkness so, he had no desire to understand. Usually, he kept to the higher hills on such nights, well away from the turmoil. What reason had drawn him to the valleys, he had forgotten. But never mind. If in no mood for contemplation, he would settle for dealing death instead.

He walked, his claws ready for victims.

Almost immediately, he became aware of an odor that, to that point, had been subliminal even to his keen nose. Blood. Human blood, except there was an odd tang of familiarity to it.

Which made no sense: there were no humans alive that he had met and suffered to live. The sense of familiarity irritated him: almost, he turned away. But, it made no difference which direction he walked, so would know whether curiosity shifted his path, or live to tell?

"Haiii-yah!" A treble voice pierced the normal, nightly chorus, followed by a faint 'thwack', of wood hitting something softer. "I'll get you!"

Sesshomaru froze, for the barest instant, his eyes flicking wide. _It couldn't be. There was no disgusting smell of inu-hanyo, and yet—that voice!_

Just chance, he told himself. The voice wasn't quite right, and he'd only heard it once before. It was only a stupid, lost human brat—

"Ow!"

Tessaiga pulsed.

He didn't notice, already in motion.

… … …

Back against a pair of twined trees, human Inuyasha snarled, swinging the branch that was his only weapon, digging deep into his rage and hate to keep the terror at bay. Barely visible forms wove around him, darting in and back, toying with their prey. Toying with _him._ Stupid, brainless bits of youkai that thought they could take him down!

Never!

He refused to let the knowledge in past his focused rage. He refused to admit he would die.

He sensed more than saw a fanged head lunging in. He swung, missed, and yelled in pain as dagger teeth sank into his arm. He swung his weapon as hard as he could, but he could _feel_ the youkai moving in for the kill. He snarled, angry, hating, refusing the truth—no, no, no!

Something white flashed in front of him, and suddenly, the only sounds were a few faint thumps, and an even fainter hissing. He froze, stunned. _What just happened?_

Inuyasha sneezed as an acrid smell burned his dull, human nose. The sneeze jolted his shocked mind. The jaws were still buried in his arm, but loosely: risking it, he took one hand off the branch and pulled the head—which was missing a body—free.

Something had saved him, but what? And why?

Almost, he called out, but experience stopped him. No one saved a hanyo. Not because they cared.

It was probably only another youkai—a bigger, nastier youkai, who wanted a hanyo-turned-human all to itself. Well, it wouldn't have him!

"I'm not afraid of you!" he yelled, swinging his branch. "I'm not your prey!"

Silence answered him. He snarled and gripped his weapon more tightly. He wouldn't give in!

… … …

Sesshomaru studied his half-brother—and human or not—it _had_ to be Inuyasha. He'd finally remembered the lore about hanyo, and the fire-rat clothing was the proof.

But, why had he saved the puling, disgusting, mortal wretch? _Again?_ It was shameful to even consider that such low rabble as that youkai swarm could even scratch something carrying his father's blood. Inu-youkai blood should die only at inu-youkai hands—that was one lesson he remembered well.

But, why couldn't he make himself move to end the whelp's life? No one would ever know if he ripped out the throat of that weak, pathetic, human child.

No one but him.

And his father.

Father was dead, but he would know. Somehow, he would _know._

And Sesshomaru couldn't bear to consider what his father's reaction would be, to his killing the hanyo at his weakest, most vulnerable time.

Youki shifted nearby, chittering, hungry, alert to recent death and still-spilling blood. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshomaru pulsed his youki, hard. Squeals of fear replaced the hunger, and the youkai promptly, and correctly, disappeared.

But, they wouldn't stay disappeared, if he left.

Which meant he was stuck, until whenever the boy's youkai blood returned.

What a miserable way to spend time.

_You're mine_, he thought, glowering at the panting, bleeding boy. _Mine. You get to live—for now. But your life is mine. And someday, I _will_ claim it. I will end your miserable life. When you're older. Someday._

… … …

No attack ever came, but Inuyasha refused to relax. His arms trembled, his head spun, and he had to brace himself against the tree to keep to his feet, but he wouldn't give in. Never, never, never!

Dawn finally came, and the relief of returning youkai sent him momentarily to his knees. Inuyasha scrambled back to his feet, discarding the branch, shouting defiance. "I'm still here! You gonna fight me or not?"

Silence answered him. Ears twitched, and his nose momentarily drowned in the returning wave of smells. A vaguely familiar scent was in the area, but the immature youki had not erased his fatigue. Once he determined that the potential attacker had left the area, Inuyasha was far more interested in food and a safe place to sleep. The attacker-who-didn't was a minor mystery, quickly forgotten.

Which was how Sesshomaru would have wished it.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is a one-shot written for the LiveJournal community "Inuyasha FanFiction Contest," for the prompt "Out of the Frying Pan." It was originally posted on June 20, 2011, and tied for third.

One quandary for this piece was which collection to put it in - Ice & Steel, or Growing Up Hanyo. Since the main emphasis was on Sesshomaru's reaction, I decided that it belonged in the former category.


	11. War Leader

**Disclaimer: **_This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.****_

_**War Leader**_

He was bred and born a killer. Even his name reflected his reality. He delivered death, brutal and quick, whether with poison claws or simple, unstoppable strength. And he felt—nothing: neither compassion nor satisfaction. If the living were in his way, and lesser, then it died if it could not dodge or give way.

Yet, he did not understand 'war.' Why would lesser beings gather in large groups, to do the bidding of leaders, to fight each other and die? What could they gain? And where were the honor and pride, in sending out others to do your killing? If you were not strong enough to stop or slay those who opposed you, then die, or give way.

And yet, this rabble of youkai that surrounded him that were sleeping or eating or watching, as they waited for the panther clan to appear: they looked to him to lead. To lead them against the clan that wanted him dead.

Why? Why make it their fight? So what, if they had fought alongside his father all those years before? So what, if they felt that his father had saved them? They wanted to fight, for a memory?

It made no sense.

He would leave, if he could. He was uninterested in being their war leader.

But, it seemed, he had no choice.

_Thank-you, father._

* * *

**Author's Note: **I've been working on writing 50,000 words for the serial "Blood Unbound" as part of the NationalNovelWritingMonth challenge (NaNoWriMo .org). This is part of one of the chapters, but stands well enough on its own, and so I used it for the prompt "Brutal", for the Issekiwa LiveJournal community. It was originally posted on November 5th, 2011, and won the contest. (11/27/2011).


	12. Dissatisfaction

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

* * *

**Dissatisfaction**

Sesshomaru stood on the peak of the mountain, watching the sinking, sickle moon. He had sung from this peak often, but felt no urge tonight.

He felt ... dissatisfaction.

Naraku was dead. Baikusaiga had dealt the fatal blow. The excrescence that had threatened Rin, and grandiosely thought he could absorb Sesshomaru, or destroy him, had died.

But, he felt neither satisfaction nor triumph.

Maybe, it was that the victory wasn't solely his. He was unused to that concept-of fighting alongside anyone, especially non-youkai. Not that his putative battle companions were unworthy: for humans and hanyo, they had been both courageous and strong. But, while only he had been able to defeat Magatsuhi, could he truly claim that the others had not played vital roles in defeating Naraku?

He could live with the result, he supposed. An interesting experience, unlikely to repeat.

He had nothing to feel dissatisfied about. Except ...

Inuyasha had vanished into his own meidou, striving to follow and rescue the human woman he loved. Inuyasha had chosen to risk everything on the faint chance of saving her.

Sesshomaru felt a sinking dismay: he doubted he would ever see his half-brother again.

And he could not have stopped him, anymore that he could have stopped his father from rescuing Izayoi.

He didn't understand. What was this feeling that drove father and son alike to risk, even give their lives to try to save another? Would he one day feel so compelled?

Surely not.

Ridiculous.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This drabble was written for the prompt "Peek or Peak" for the LiveJournal community Issekiwa. It was originally posted on May 5, 2012. It won the contest. (1/11/2013)


End file.
